


you know i only do it (cause i motherfucking love it)

by quietgalaxies



Series: ain't no rest for the wicked [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, F/F, romance isnt dead if youre a lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietgalaxies/pseuds/quietgalaxies
Summary: whoever came out of the buried with jon has the wrong daemon. it can’t be daisy.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Series: ain't no rest for the wicked [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550917
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	you know i only do it (cause i motherfucking love it)

**Author's Note:**

> the post on tumblr about how jons daemon gets more and more supernatural while he remains the same? that but with daisy. ill try to link the post later

Basira can’t breathe. Standing before her, rising from a coffin with a frankly ridicolous amount of tape records spilled over the floor, is a woman who looks exactly like Daisy. And Jon, of course, since he is the man responsible. But it isn't Daisy. Her partner had a wolf dog daemon – she’s the only one who knows exactly how soft the ears are when you scratch them, and how lovely Fenris will curl around Maryam when they go to sleep. He’s larger than an average wolf, and his jaw is so big that he could swallow her head whole if he wanted to. But most importantly, Fenris had eyes that were an amber shade at first glance, but glinted red when they were on the hunt. 

The woman in front of her has a golden retriever that she’s cradling in her arms. Basira can’t discern the words, but it sounds like Daisy’s voice, if someone had poured acid down it first. And then she raises her eyes, and Basira can’t breathe again. ”Hi.”

She panicks, and remembers what Melanie had told her about Sasha and Mimer. Mimer had been different when Melanie came back, and everyone had refused to acknowledge that her daemon was a blue jay, not a moth, and that it wasn’t Sasha. Had Jonathan brought back another one of those? But Melanie said that the-thing-that-was-not-Sasha had looked and sounded completely different (”First time, she was tall, with glasses and really nice dreadlocks. And then they tried to tell me that the short stubby ginger woman had always been there..”) and as far as Basira could tell, it must be a carbon copy of Daisy Tonner before her. 

Her clothes are dirtier but still the same as six months ago, her head is still shaved with dirty blonde hair growing out, her shoulders are still broad and steady. She can see the beauty mark below her nostrils, the scars that trace her knuckles, the two jacks in her eyebrow, her lumpy, cute ears and her crooked nose. But then, after her eyes have trailed all over her body to check for faults, she looks her in the eyes. They are different. Daisy had eyes that were so light grey that they struck her as white sometimes. This woman is blue eyed - a plain blue, with a smatter of brown in the left one. She’s still as handsome as Basira knows that Daisy was. It must be a doppelgänger. 

Just as she’s about to grab the gun that’s taped under the desk and put two in the fake’s knees, she spots the necklace hanging over the pale hollow of her throat. Daisy once told Basira that she would never wear any jewellery; just leverage for any attacker in grabbing distance. When Basira had argued that having something to grab wouldn’t help anyone that was picking a fight against Daisy anyway, she’d gotten an amused snort. In another world, she would have left it at that and accepted that necklaces weren’t an option when buying gifts for Daisy.

Her resolve had died down when she spotted a beautiful nazar hanging in a shop near her apartment. When she walked in, Maryam flapping behind her, and explained in urdu the reason she was drawn to it, the man behind the desk gestured for her to take it, and gently smiled when she tried to pay him for it. His sparrow gave a kindly ”Alhamdulila,” as they walked out. Basira had hesitated for weeks before giving it to Daisy, and was ready to go back to the kind man and put his ward back in the window. One day, Daisy spotted it in her apartment. “I’ve never seen you wear this,” and with a wince, she explained. After a seemingly infinite moment of silence, Daisy had grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her like she was trying to kill her and keep her alive and hunt her and protect her, all at the same time. When they laid in bed later, Basira’s head on her Daisy’s chest while tracing scars with her fingertips, she’d helped her put it on. 

Seeing the evil eye staring back to her, all pretense disappears. It’s Daisy. And if it’s Daisy, then the golden retriever must be Fenris. On her shoulder, she hears Maryam take a deep breath. “Oh my god.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay so yeah this fic takes place in two seconds. how the actual fuck can someone /see/ that much in two seconds and make that many connections? well first off, basira’s like too smart for her own good. second, being the detective for the eye aint for naught.
> 
> 🧿 <\- this is a nazar. common by the mediterranean and in west asia to ward off evil
> 
> but yes! the hunts effect on daisy changed not only her, but her daemon. wolf dogs are unpredictable, powerful and extremely practical for hunting (they also have a dispostion to be larger than actual wolves! hybrids are crazy.) 
> 
> golden retrievers are intelligent, compassionate and excellent dogs for counselling and focused workers.
> 
> basira is of course pakistani and muslim, and the shopkeepers sparrow gives her a good bye. young love is really nice <3
> 
> and yes, my daisy is about 6'2 all muscle, used to box (which has kinda lumped her ears up) and is butch as hell. i headcanon basira as 5'5 and a big fan of aikido, puzzles and wearing beautiful blouses


End file.
